The Keeper
by fireinmybones
Summary: Aspiring writer, Isabella Swan, travels to the small town of Yachats, Oregon after her bitter divorce from her high school sweetheart. With a promise to keep her heart locked away, Bella soon finds it difficult as she befriends the lighthouse keeper.


_{Disclaimer & Authors Note is at the bottom.}_

**Chapter One**

Songs:

**Make This Go On Forever** – Snow Patrol

**Nothing In My Way** – Keane

**Shadow Of The Day** – Linkin Park

**BPOV**

What is a promise? Or better yet, what is the root of the meaning, _promise_? I thought I knew. I thought I'd figured it out when I stood in front of Emmett and whispered, _"I do."_ I remember smiling as I looked up at him. His small boutonnière was slightly crooked, as was his maroon-colored bow tie and toothy grin. When he let go of my hand, to dramatically wipe the visible sweat from his brow, he let out a sigh. The room then erupted with small whispers of laughter and a single clap - likely coming from one of our dear old high school friends. To say it was the best day of my life would be too simple, too cliché. But words still fail me now when sharing just how happy I was during that one simple moment; since that's what it was...simple.

I naively handed over my heart, my hand, my love and even my soul to him. Emmett was my promise. My _'for better or for worse'_, my unconditional love and my_ 'to death do us part'_. However, and seemingly unfortunate, our part came before the death. I eagerly anticipated the chance to grow together, to get to know the man he would become. I wanted the chance to fall in love a little more every day. But, I was robbed of that future I had dreamt of every so often and I was denied the opportunity to grow together as one, since we knowingly grew apart as individuals.

"It wasn't entirely his fault, right?" I say, turning to look at my overbearing mother. Her face is sullen; dull in comparison to the small smile I have to force. I'm not really asking or seeking for her opinion or sympathy, but it was more of a question to myself. But the fact that I constantly try to ease the situation disgusts me, yet I keep the smile anyways for her sake. "I pushed him away. I have been for a long time now." It's true, I know it to be. I became so wrapped up in my writing and in my job, that I began to distance myself from him further and further. She just pats my hand with her's without looking at me and without a word; it was to be expected. Though part of me – a small, childlike part of me – wished she would have thrown her arms around me to let me know that everything was going to be alright.

"You caught him with another woman." I take my hand back and turn away from her, not wishing to have that confirmed out loud. But it's too late, I know she will keep it going; since it wasn't the first time she had told me so. "Rosalie was your friend and even your maid of honor, Isabella." She pauses, "She was like a daughter to me." It is a well-known fact that my mother adored Rosalie more than she adores me and she always found a moment to share why on many occasions. I am ashamed that she will always find an opportunity to butt into my situation and cause other's to feel sorry for her, because she has apparently '_lost Rosalie_'.

Not wanting to think about it any longer, I shut my eyes and rest my elbow on the arm of the chair; it's cold, slightly sticky, but manageable. The overheated airport – which smells of bad coffee and cleaning products – is bustling with college students, like myself, flying out for their summer vacation; since Chicago isn't the best summer spot. Wide grins are visible on their faces, that not only am I genuinely jealous of, but I'm sure the _Cheshire Cat_ himself would be as well.

_"To not worry about a deadline, a job, or a failed marriage must be nice,"_ I think, while mindlessly playing with the wedding band I still have on my finger. I look down at it, not wanting to part with it just yet. Since wanting to keep something that will remind me of a time that made me happy is more important than something that made me miserable.

_"Flight 599 to Oregon will depart from gate 33A."_

I stand, grabbing my large, brown leather carry-on purse from the carpeted floor – which is slightly heavy, due to the fact that I packed it with reading material for a 27 hour flight, instead of an 8 hour one. I adjust the stripped scarf around my neck and nervously smooth down my jeans out of habit. It's not that I am skirmish about airplanes or heights, it's not that at all. I've been on airplanes numerous times before, but the fact that I will be on my own for the first time in my entire life in another town, another state is truly nerve-wracking. Chicago has always been my home, the place I pictured myself having a family, a well paying career and all around success.

"Now, your Uncle Riley has the cabin all fixed up and ready for you. It has electricity, plumbing, heating, AC, and it's furnished and clean, supposedly. Which your Aunt Bree most likely did on her own, knowing that Riley is just as lazy as your father was." I ignore her comment about Charlie, since speaking about those who have passed wasn't exactly something I was about to get into again with her. "I made sure that he put new locks on the doors before they left town, just to be safe." Knowing this sudden act of motherly concern is obviously something she had practiced, I go along with it.

"Thanks, mom," I say, stepping closer to hug her quickly. I don't tell her that I will miss her, only because I'm not sure that I will. I let her know that I love her though, even if I'm not sure about that either, but it is the least I can do. The thought of dying, in a sudden plane crash without telling her _that_ would haunt me while my body rots in my grave. She takes a step back, placing her small, black sunglasses down to cover her eyes and for a moment I want to believe it's because she is crying and will miss me terribly, but I don't get ahead of myself.

She smiles, revealing the slight gap between her top front teeth and takes out the pack of cigarettes from her purse, "You should get going before you miss your flight." I just nod, knowing our little intimate mother-daughter moment has ended.

"I'll call you when I land." I turn then, before she could refuse, and head towards the correct gate for my flight. As I walk quickly, I realize that in 8 hours I will no longer be, Isabella Swan; the 24-year-old woman who lost her husband to her best friend, who's mother is insanely selfish and unbearable to be around. And the woman who spent a whole year drowning herself in tubs of_ Ben and Jerry's_, while reading practically every one of Nicholas Sparks' novels; The Notebook being the worse.

I hope to become an unrecognizable person, but the only way I know how is to make a promise; just the thought of having to promise myself something brings me to a place of uncertainty and pain. However, I feel it is necessary for me to do so, especially after barely surviving my failed marriage. I sigh, finally giving into my plan and promise myself to avoid forming any kind of personal ties and to never - under any circumstances - give my already damaged heart away. It's a promise I know I'd be willing to keep. I finally reach the gate, feeling somewhat homesick and lonely already when I give the male attendent my boarding pass.

* * *

_*Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga is owned by Stephenie Meyer and no copyright infringement is intended. I don't own The Notebook either, but I do own a copy of _A Walk To Remember_ and it will always be my favorite. _

* * *

_*Authors Note: I do apologize for errors and mistakes you may have witnessed; I haven't been able to hire a beta. However, I do hope you have enjoyed this short opening chapter to The Keeper. I was inspired by the countless number of Nicholas Sparks novels I have been reading - just like my poor Bella - as well as some romance films. Unlike my other stories, Bella and Edward are both adults here, which is especially fun for me to write. Like my profile says, I have been away for too long due to real life, but I do hope to get back into the game of writing fanfiction, since this idea doesn't seem to fade. Please leave your thoughts in a review so I know if I should continue or not, I promise you it will get more interest as the story progresses. Thank you all for taking the time to read this little ditty. (Even though this isn't a song. ;]) I will be making a livejournal for this story for those who read fanfiction via livejournal and I will be making outfits for chapters as well as a playlist._

_Next Chapter: We will see Bella arriving to the small town of Yachats, Oregon (which you should all look at the pictures of, since it's beautiful there) and will hopefully meet a particular fellow ;)_


End file.
